Don't Think I'm Trying Not to Learn
by actress-xx
Summary: Blaine has a low French grade, and Sebastian has low morals.
1. Starting With the ABC of It

**TITLE: **Don't Think I'm Trying Not to Learn

**AUTHOR: **actress_xx

**RATING: **NC-17

**PAIRING: **Blaine/Sebastian

**SUMMARY:** Blaine has a low French grade, and Sebastian has low morals.

**SPOILERS: **3x5 - "The First Time"

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **Prompt-fill for the Glee Kink Meme:_AU or roleplaying. I just want HandsomeFrenchTeacher!Sebastian to seduce BashfulSchoolboy!Blaine_. Special thanks to melusine2001 at LiveJournal for jumping in to help the bimbo who decided to start writing this without knowing how to speak French.

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own _Glee_; title from Frank Sinatra's "Teach Me Tonight."

The guilt Blaine felt was a twinge at best, really, because he didn't see how he had much of a choice. He was scarily close to flunking his foreign language course, and if that happened, his parents would undoubtedly transfer him back to Dalton Academy; they already harbored doubts about the public school curriculum, concerns that were apparently valid as he had yet to learn anything in his French class. Therefore, he had brought himself back to Dalton, at least for a few hours, in search of Sebastian Smythe. The last thing Blaine wanted to do was go to Sebastian for a favor - yes, Kurt had a certain aversion to him, and, no, Blaine hadn't told the truth regarding where he was disappearing to when the last bell sounded - but the kid had fucking _lived_ in France, which, Blaine told himself as he crossed the threshold of his old school, made whatever he happened to be doing completely okay.

_Studying_, he admonished. _You're just going to see if Sebastian is willing to -_

The twinge blossomed into a slight pang when he actually located the boy in question lounging on his back, blazer tossed over the back of the couch and tie askew, because Blaine's mind immediately redirected itself to the gutter. However, the thoughts remained unspoken and Blaine remained unnoticed; Sebastian was enthralled in the novel he was reading, and it wasn't until he turned the page that his peripheral vision picked up on a figure not dressed in red and navy. He turned his head, and Blaine realized that Sebastian was wearing glasses for the first time since they'd met. Suddenly the book couldn't hold its audience, and was being tossed aside as Sebastian brought himself into a sitting position to appraise Blaine, who'd had an entire spiel ready on the way over, but could now only manage to blurt out, "Hey!"

Sebastian's smile had an undertone Blaine couldn't label as he stood to greet the interloper with a handshake that Blaine returned firmer than he'd meant to. Maybe it was the height difference or the confidence he emitted, or the nonchalantness in his tone as he asked, "Back again?" but something about Sebastian always seemed to make Blaine feel - the words that popped into his head were echoes of Sebastian describing him as a "bashful schoolboy," which Blaine replaced with the term "inadequate." Whatever the case, it was unnerving, especially considering the cocksure, dapper persona associated with the name Blaine Anderson. Sebastian had called him a legend, for God's sake; it didn't make sense for Blaine to feel insecure.

"I actually need a favor," Blaine admitted, eyes squinting as though to brace for rejection. Sebastian returned to his space on the couch, folding one leg over the other as he gestured for Blaine to take a seat in a nearby armchair. Blaine elected to lean over the back of it in an effort to make this feel less like an interview than it already did, reminiscent of the first conversation they'd ever had. Blaine had been left flabbergasted by the whirlwind that was Sebastian Smythe, and had sat at that table until his coffee was cold, trying to work out how he could be so intrigued by somebody who was little more than a stranger, albeit a handsome one.

"You'd be making a lot of people very happy if you're about to ask me to rehearse some more Warbler choreography with you," Sebastian quipped. "Trent is literally convinced that you'll be back with us in time for competition."

"That's actually exactly what I'm trying to avoid," Blaine replied, unsure if he'd seen or imagined the glint of hurt flash behind Sebastian's glasses. "I was hoping, um, _wondering_ if you'd be able to help me with my French."

Sebastian's eyebrow quirked, and there it was, that aura Blaine had never quite been able to identify until just now; it was the look of somebody who knew something everybody else didn't, like he had some inside joke with the universe that nobody else seemed to understand. It was a cocktail of amusement and arrogance that would have been annoying if it wasn't so goddamn intoxicating. Blaine liked to think he was relatively adept at reading people, but Sebastian was a complete mystery to him. He could see that Sebastian's gears were turning in his head, but the actual content of the boy's inner thoughts seemed to be camouflaged beneath this constant air of naughtiness. Blaine found himself smiling at Sebastian, not entirely sure why beyond the fact that the mischief was contagious.

"Blaine!"

He straightened and turned at the sound of his name, which had served to announce the arrival of half a dozen Warblers. They more or less converged on Blaine, offering handshakes and hugs that overlapped almost as much as their conversations, each attempting to simultaneously interact with their brethren. Sebastian watched the exchange for roughly thirty seconds before approaching the group, clapping a hand on Blaine's shoulder to effectively terminate the bubbly chaos.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, boys, but Blaine and I have a study-date."

The boys' reactions varied between disappointed and quizzical, neither of which Blaine was able to address before Sebastian was disappearing into the hallway, abandoning both his belongings and Blaine, who threw a hurried goodbye over his shoulder as he took off after his newly-acquired tutor. He had to jog a bit thanks to Sebastian's headstart and longer legs, but eventually fell into step beside him, heading in the direction of the study areas near the library.


	2. Getting Right Down to the XYZ of It

Judging from the way he was strutting through the place, Blaine half-expected Sebastian to do something obnoxious like wink at the librarian and blow past the front desk, but the boy was actually quite respectful as they approached, even lowering the volume of his voice as he requested a study area. The librarian slid over a sheet of paper for Sebastian to sign in, and Blaine glanced over as Sebastian filled out his name and the time in neat penmanship before acknowledging Blaine's presence with a "1" in the guest column. It felt strange, being referred to as a guest in the place Blaine considered to be his second home, and combined with the way Sebastian had not once but twice done the talking for them in the past few minutes, Blaine felt small.

Key acquired, Sebastian lead Blaine to their assigned room, unlocking the door and holding it open as he ushered Blaine inside. Each study area looked alike, Blaine knew, aside from the varying piece of art decorating their walls, though each painting was located in the same place from room to room. Blaine had always assumed they were hung on the back wall in an effort to cozy up the room as it was entered, but not risk distracting students if they were seated at the cherry-oak desk. There was also a table with four chairs for the sake of group projects, as well as an upholstered armchair intended for reading, which Blaine promptly dropped into. The rooms were relatively small, really only enough to fit the furniture and a few occupants, and Blaine realized that he and Sebastian were in close quarters as the door clicked shut.

Sebastian took the few steps necessary to reach the desk, leaning against the edge of it as he posed a question to Blaine in French. He had spoken quickly and used a colloquial term Blaine didn't understand, and he willed himself not to blush as he replied, "_Que dites-vous?_"

"I was asking you exactly how badly that glee director of yours had fucked up your French," Sebastian translated.

"Oh, no, Mr. Schuester doesn't teach French," Blaine corrected. Sebastian's brow furrowed slightly in confusion, so Blaine elaborated. "He's the Spanish teacher."

"I don't think that's as much of a defense as you intended it to be," the other boy retorted, and Blaine was saved from another half-baked advocacy of McKinley's sorry excuse for a language department when his phone vibrated. He knew from the ringtone that Kurt was on the other end of the call, and Sebastian seemed to gather as much. He approached, towering over Blaine's seated form as he reached down to slip a hand into Blaine's pocket and extract the phone. He barely glanced down at the screen before silencing it with a jab to the ignore button, tossing the gadget onto the nearby table.

"No phones in my class, Mr. Anderson."

"Sorry," Blaine apologized in an embarrassingly small mumble, as though he'd been chastised by an actual authority figure. He tried to shake it off, repositioning himself in the armchair he suddenly couldn't seem to get comfortable in, fishing for smalltalk that would distract himself from the blush that had, despite Blaine's efforts, risen in his cheeks.

"These rooms are kind of great, right? McKinley doesn't have anything like this. It's just so _Dalton_, i-in a good way. It's barely ever quiet in the library at McKinley; Kurt was telling me about this time that the glee club did an entire routine in there, on the tables and stuff, and nobody even cared. I think it might be because there are so many kids, maybe? Like, they just kind of expect that outrageous stuff is going to happen. My first day there, this girl Santana - I'm pretty sure she's a sociopath - lit a purple piano on fire, and ..."

His ramblings only petered out when Sebastian pivoted abruptly, heading for the door, and in the few seconds it took for the taller boy to reach his destination, Blaine's mind went back and forth three times regarding whether or not Sebastian was enough of a douchebag to actually walk out on somebody midsentence. He had just landed back on "yes" when the metallic gleam between Sebastian's fingers caught Blaine's eye, and he sucked in the first breath since he'd begun speaking when he realized it was the key. Sebastian thrust it into the door, turning it with a flick of his wrist, and Blaine swore it was the loudest _click_ a lock had ever made.

"_Je sais pourquoi tu es parti_," Sebastian stated as he turned around, the accusatory tone once again leaving Blaine with a cold feeling in his stomach as though he was being scolded. "It was pretty obvious after I met your boyfriend, but I couldn't comprehend that somebody would actually give all of this up for a boy - because that's what he is, Blaine; he's a boy - so I asked around, and it turns out that's exactly what happened. Did you know that nobody expected you to show up to Dalton at all this year? It was a tease when you came for the first few days of classes, but nobody was shocked when you barely lasted the week."

There was nothing to argue. Not a word Sebastian had said was defensible, nevermind debatable, and the facts seemed to vibrate in the silence that followed the hard consonant Sebastian had landed on. Blaine's mouth gave a false-start, jaw working mechanically, and he felt as though the seconds were audibly ticking away before he finally delivered the only retort he could muster: "You could have said all of that in French; _je comprends mieux que tu ne le crois_."

Sebastian removed his glasses, moving to set them on the sturdy wood of the desk before turning his gaze on Blaine, who swore that Sebastian's eyes hadn't been such an electric shade of blue when they were hidden behind his lenses. When Sebastian began narrowing the distance between them, perfectly timing his steps as though they were choreographed, Blaine had to consciously focus on the words Sebastian was saying instead of how his mouth looked forming them.

"That's my point, Blaine. You may need a lesson in discipline and loyalty and respect, but not in French. You don't need a tutor. Even if that school of yours has the lunch-lady teaching your class, they still gave you a textbook. Between that and the _actual_ education you got here, you could raise your French grade on your own if you wanted to. You don't need me - at least, not for that."

Under normal circumstances, the flash of a smile would serve to dispel tension, but not when it came from Sebastian Smythe. The smirk that was pulling at the corner of his lips was a weapon, a means of disarming Blaine, as devious and filthy and scandalous as it was charming.

"This can go one of two ways: we can sit at that desk, and we can conjugate verbs while you suck on the end of your pen and wait for our knees to brush underneath the table, or whatever other high school shit will get you through the night, or we can be grown-ups, and you can tell me why you're really here."

By the time Sebastian was finished speaking, he was perched on the arm of Blaine's chair, leaning down close enough that Blaine's head was swimming in the mixture of cologne and naughtiness and _goddamnityes_. He blinked up at Sebastian, wide-eyed, and even if he knew what to say, it wouldn't have mattered, because Sebastian's mouth was so close to his, and words weren't an option at the moment.

"_Réponds-moi. De quoi as-tu besoin_?"

The hazel of Blaine's eyes darkened instantly, and before he could stifle the answer on his tongue, he was replying, "_De tout._"

_Everything._


	3. Help Me Solve the Mystery of It

Blaine tilted his face upward, searching for Sebastian's mouth, attempting to appease the pure need that had begun surging through his body with the words, but instead found himself hissing at the sensation of Sebastian's hand gripping the back of his hair, tilting Blaine's head until the line of his neck was exposed. Sebastian's teeth hovered over the skin, threatening to graze harshly against it, but instead he ghosted upward, voice low and warning as it reached Blaine's ear.

"You need to be shown what it's like not to get everything you want exactly when you want it. Maybe then you'll think twice about parading the halls of Dalton whenever the fuck you feel like it, whoring yourself for attention like some prodigal son." He punctuated the sentence with a solid bite to Blaine's neck, only lathing his tongue over the spot once he'd added, "_Est-ce que tu vas être un gentil garçon?_"

Blaine nodded as effectively as he could with Sebastian fisting his hair, desperation overtaking the tiny spark of shame that had flickered in his stomach at the demeaning words. Sebastian caught Blaine's lips between his own, and it didn't even occur to Blaine to struggle for dominance when his mouth was seized by a skilled tongue. Fists coiled around the neck of his sweater as Sebastian left the chair, and Blaine allowed himself to be dragged up onto his feet, a movement that barely dislodged their mouths, but gave Blaine enough room to answer, "_Oui, monsieur._"

Sebastian growled at the words, hands tugging at the fabric in his grasp until it was being pulled over Blaine's head, effectively breaking their kiss. Blaine's sweater and the undershirt that had been beneath it were discarded, neither boy bothering to pay attention to where they had landed, and Blaine immediately lunged forward for another kiss. He didn't realize he was cold until the warmth of Sebastian's palms forcefully met his chest, the blonde denying Blaine access to his mouth, which was now sneering, "_Avide_."

Blaine literally swallowed whatever objection he had, the gulp audible as Sebastian began trailing downward. His fingers were firm against Blaine's goosebumped skin as he dragged them down the boy's torso, watching the way Blaine's stomach clenched when he traced the faint lines in his barely-defined abdomen. The reflex coincided with the increased speed of Blaine's breath, and when Sebastian glanced up, Blaine was taking in air through open, just-kissed lips. The feel of Sebastian's fingers on the outline of his erection invoked another hard swallow.

"_Mets toi à genoux_," Sebastian voiced, but Blaine hesitated, not wanting to pull away from the hand that was now massaging his cock through the front of his slacks. He inhaled sharply when Sebastian's free hand came in contact with his cheek, enough of a smack that Blaine's skin had a slight tingle to it as Sebastian repeated, "_A genoux_!"

The carpet was less forgiving than Blaine would have expected had he been thinking of anything besides the ache between his legs. Sebastian circled him once, devouring the image of a shirtless, desperately hard Blaine Anderson, on his knees in the middle of a Dalton study. Blaine's eyes noted the impressive erection in the front of Sebastian's uniform once the blonde had returned to stand in front of him, bringing his cock more or less eye-level with his hungry gaze. Blaine stiffened when Sebastian reached out a hand, wincing in anticipation of another slap, but he relaxed when his tutor merely caressed the spot on his cheek that had been abused, then dragged his thumb over Blaine's pouted lips. His tongue darted out to swipe against it, and Sebastian grinned down at him.

"That's a good boy. You'll learn fast."

Sebastian's unoccupied hand palmed his own hardness, the other continuing to rub across Blaine's mouth, catching the vibrations of a moan when Blaine saw him squeeze his length. Blaine's lips had parted to release the sound, and Sebastian allowed his thumb to slide between them. His tone was rough but teasing as he asked, "Do you need something inside that beautiful mouth?" and the response was a swirling tongue, followed by the gentle pull of Blaine's teeth along the pad of his thumb. Hazel eyes noticed the way Sebastian's jaw clenched, which only spurred Blaine on, devotedly working over the object in his mouth as though it would convince Sebastian to take off his slacks.

It did, eventually.

Sebastian was able to pop the button and lower the zipper of his pants one-handed, as well as toe off his footwear, but had to abandon Blaine's mouth in favor of fully removing the lower half of his uniform. His otherwise-crisp shirt was disheveled towards the bottom, where it had been tucked into the waistband of his pants, and only drew attention to the fact that the oxford was brushing just over the top of his thighs; it was was also tenting slightly from the throbbing erection trapped behind it. Sebastian bunched up the hem of his shirt, holding it just over his belly-button until Blaine let out an impressed, "_Fuck_," then let go of the fabric, inadvertently tucking the white cotton behind his cock as he grabbed the base and stroked. He teased the head with his thumb, the lingering wetness of Blaine's spit mixing with his bead of precum, and the grunt it forced from him was enough to have Blaine leaning forward, open-mouthed.

When his tutor took a step back, Blaine was too disappointed to be embarrassed by the whine that built in his throat. He had barely touched or been touched, and yet every inch of his being was begging for contact, needing to be the one earning the noises Sebastian was making as he jerked himself off just out of Blaine's reach. They were both so fucking hungry for each other, but in any other scenario, the dapper Blaine Anderson always managed to have a better grasp on battling the dirty thoughts they shared; any sign of desire could be camouflaged with a cough or a leg-cross, and conversation was always turned back to a neutral subject. Even if he'd blush, or stumble over a word or two when he looked directly into Sebastian's eyes, Blaine never broke.

_Until now_, Sebastian mused. The tables had turned, and he'd teach his student a lesson.

Sebastian hid the smirk creeping across his lips by lifting a hand to his mouth, spitting into it before running it over his length. Blaine groaned as he watched Sebastian's hand glide back and forth, twisting into a fist at the head before sinking back down, and, God, Blaine could do that, could make it so good for him if Sebastian would just let him. Blaine's thoughts were etched into the distressed lines in his forehead when he finally glanced up at Sebastian, but it didn't matter, because when their eyes locked, Blaine knew he had just said those things out loud.

"It's not fun to be teased with something pretty that you can't have, is it, Blaine?" Sebastian taunted, and if the question hadn't been so snarky, it could have been sad.

It was then that Blaine released a shaky breath that sounded a lot like "please," and it only took two strides before Sebastian was tapping his cock against Blaine's lips, wetting them with the fluids that were glistening on the head, and then muttering, "_Ouvre_."


	4. Go On and Teach Me Tonight

Not only did Blaine drop his mouth open immediately, but he extended his tongue until it was flush with his chin, and blinked up at Sebastian with eyes that were legitimately golden. His tastebuds caught the barely-there bitterness of precum as Sebastian rubbed his cock across his tongue, and what would have been Blaine's moan came out as a humid breath of air that caused Sebastian to shudder. With the pressure on his tongue, Blaine wasn't able to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth, and a small rivulet of spit ran down his chin when Sebastian actually thrust inside. For a moment, he thought Sebastian's extending hand was going to wipe it away, but the thought was fleeting, and Sebastian merely smeared the wetness up Blaine's jawline and onto his cheek, smirking at how debauched the normally put-together boy looked, messily sucking his tutor's cock. To complete the aesthetic, Sebastian tangled his fingers deep into Blaine's hair, mussing the gelled curls as he began to force Blaine's head to bob up and down his length. The first and only gag was purely out of surprise, but it still had Blaine's amber eyes watering as he took Sebastian into his throat.

"Is this what you c-came for, Blaine? Did you want some more fucking _attention_?" The question seemed to wash over Blaine in a wave, and when his gaze wavered under Sebastian's dark stare, it was clear what his answer would have been were he able to respond. He suddenly brought his hands to Sebastian's thighs, gripping at the edges of his shirt like a lifeline when Sebastian gave hard, lasting thrust, but when the blonde withdrew completely, Blaine's fingers didn't seem to relax. Sebastian gave a lovetap to Blaine's dry cheek - "_Je t'ai posé une question._" - and Blaine was strangely grateful that his eyes were already glassed over as he was forced to answer.

"_Oui, monsieur._"

His voice was low and rough from the throat-fucking he had endured, and Sebastian's cock gave a subtle twitch at the sound. The movement caught Blaine's eye, and, God, it was so much easier to focus on sinking his mouth back onto Sebastian's length rather than acknowledge the messiness of his own emotions, but he was unable to do either when he felt a demanding tug in his hair. Blaine tried to get to his feet, but Sebastian was too impatient to wait for him to fully stand before slamming their lips together. The force jolted Blaine slightly off-balance, but an arm locked around his waist so tightly that it may have felt protective had the events of the next five seconds not occurred: Blaine literally sank into Sebastian's kiss, letting the taller boy's frame keep him upright until his knees were steady, and his fingers were groping for purchase when they landed on Sebastian's tie. Forgetting himself, Blaine yanked at the knot, desperate to uncover more of Sebastian's body, and -

Blaine was only beginning to realize that Sebastian was snickering when he found himself walking backwards until he collided with the edge of the desk Sebastian had just cornered him against, the sturdiness of which proved impressive as Sebastian trapped Blaine's body against it with his own. The throbbing need in Blaine's cock was miserable, and when Sebastian began rocking their hips together, Blaine grunted so loudly that he almost missed what his tutor was saying.

"The only way this tie comes off is if _I_ decide to take it off, and if I decide to take it off, it's going around your wrists," Sebastian explained, his tone nonchalant as he twisted his posture until Blaine was straddling his thigh. He allowed Blaine to continue rocking, chasing whatever friction he could while Sebastian calmly brought a hand up to cup his chin, demanding eye-contact. What he found in the blown pupils was a combination of yearning and desperation, with just the slightest edge of unease, and Sebastian awarded himself a tiny victory, because that was everything he felt whenever Blaine Anderson came around. Sebastian loosened his tie just an inch more, smirking when Blaine widened his eyes and rambled French apologies that weren't properly formed.

"_Tu es un petit cochon,_" Sebastian whispered, the message delivered in a tingling breath against Blaine's ear. "Now, turn around, and bend over the fucking desk."

Blaine followed the order as soon as Sebastian had backed off enough to give him to room to do so, stroking his cock almost absentmindedly as he observed Blaine's movements. He cleared his throat when Blaine dipped slightly at the waist, leaning against the desk's surface on braced hands. Blaine threw a glance over his shoulder at the sound, and lowered himself onto his forearms, which caused his ass to stick out further, but Sebastian _tsk_ed and stepped forward, shoving a hand into Blaine's shoulder-blade to force his torso flat against the desk. Blaine winced at the coolness of the wood beneath his stomach, which ebbed as he tried in vain to even out his breathing - he could see his heated breaths making patterns against the wood with every exhale - but the temperature felt good against his forehead when he ultimately dropped his head in submission; that happened the millisecond Sebastian's hand made its way to the front of Blaine's pants, fingering the button and zipper until they were out of the way, and the fabric could be tugged down to Blaine's knees, along with the navy boxer-briefs that had been hiding underneath.

The study had one small window, mainly decorative, meant to dispel the feeling of imprisonment in the otherwise secluded room, and the sight a passerby would have stumbled upon had he peered through the glass was obscene: Blaine white-knuckling the far edge of the desk he was stretched over while Sebastian knelt behind him, still donning his shirt and tie, spreading the cheeks of Blaine's ass before leaning forward to tease the tight opening with a firm swipe of his tongue. Blaine gritted his teeth against the feeling, fighting whatever noises were bubbling higher in his throat with each lick. It wasn't until Sebastian nudged the tip of his tongue inside that Blaine released a guttural sob.

"_Gah!_"

"Naughty boy," Sebastian growled again, this time in English, as he got back on his feet. He promptly sucked a finger into his mouth, coating it with saliva before tracing Blaine's hole, lightly pulsing at it without actually entering. Blaine's naked muscles strained in pure want, and watching the tension build in his student's body momentarily distracted Sebastian from what he was doing. Blaine was a fucking _wreck_ by the time Sebastian slid a finger into his tight heat, and he melted into the wood, whimpering at the relief of being somewhat filled. That seemed to refocus Sebastian, who masterfully warmed Blaine up until he was hungrily fucking back against three of his tutor's fingers.

"You need my dick, don't you? Have you learned your lesson, Blaine, huh? Do you know what it's like to be so fucking _close_ to something and not be able to _have_ it?" The interrogation only paused long enough for Sebastian to spit into his hand, transferring the slickness onto his cock as he continued.

"What if I walked out right now, left you here exposed and unfucking_wanted_, like a toy I got sick of playing with? Is that what I should do, Blaine?" because, fuck, it wasn't fair! It wasn't fucking _fair_ that Sebastian had to compete with the ghost of some asshole who'd abandoned Dalton on a goddamn whim, who dropped in on rehearsals that he was no longer a part of to boast about his lead in his new school's musical, further reminding everybody of how _flawless_ he was, and then Sebastian had to find out that the "whim" was some pretty little twink, and that even if he could lure Blaine out for coffee or dancing or whatever other trick he had up his sleeve, the golden eyes and gorgeous lips and infuriatingly perfect _everything_ were _taken_, and it wasn't _fair_!

Sebastian didn't remember sheathing himself in Blaine Anderson, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of the merciless grip he had on the dark-haired boy's hipbones, the drabble of "God, fuck, I'm _sorry_, just please, Sebastian, please don't stop" coming from beneath him, and the mindblowing sensation of Blaine shattering around him as he climaxed against the underside of the desk, and then Sebastian was cumming harder than he had in his entire life.

Once the cell phone reading "1 missed call" was back inside the pocket of Blaine's straightened pants, and glasses were again masking the already unreadable emotions in Sebastian's eyes, a stray napkin from the wastebasket was used to wipe away whatever physical evidence of their lesson had been left underneath the desk. Sebastian unlocked the door, holding it open for Blaine, who tried to pass through when he was promptly stopped by a hand on his chest. Blaine pulled his gaze from the carpet to his tutor's face, which looked blank as Sebastian reached up to smooth a few rogue curls that hinted at Blaine's activities. The hand didn't linger, immediately gripping the doorknob as he nodded for Blaine to leave. Sebastian barely shut the door behind them before striding away, once again leaving Blaine to stare after him.

"Hey."

Had he not been the one on the receiving end of everything, Blaine never would have guessed that Sebastian had just had rough sex against the desk of a prep school library. He looked handsome as fuck as he casually turned around, hands in his pockets, eyebrow quirked at Blaine in a silent, "What?" and it wasn't the first or last time that Blaine was almost too taken aback by Sebastian Smythe to speak. Nothing he actually wanted to say seemed right, so he settled for the obvious.

"We - you're supposed to lock the door."

The arrogant half-smile made an appearance as Sebastian took a few steps back towards Blaine, leaning forward in fake secrecy. His stage-whisper seemed deafening in the abandoned space as he confided, "The door needs to stay open, because that room smells like sex, and my name is on the sign-in sheet."

Blaine felt his smile mirroring Sebastian's, and the two fell into a weirdly comfortable silence as they walked together, neither chasing after the other. Whatever unresolved issues would rekindle the guilt in Blaine's gut on his drive home, or follow Sebastian to bed that night, would have to be resolved at their next lesson.


End file.
